


Kingdom of Fairies

by SalmonCenter



Series: Jasper and Alice [8]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalmonCenter/pseuds/SalmonCenter
Summary: Jasper had always hoped that the future would bring change, and that the change would pull him out of the dark place he found himself in.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale
Series: Jasper and Alice [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883479
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21





	1. Change

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GirlWhoWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoWrites/gifts).



> This was written as a bribe for Lexie. STL Chapter 8 was posted. My end of the deal must me fulfilled.

Jasper had always hoped that the future would bring change, and that the change would pull him out of the dark place he found himself in. He wondered what it would be like when his kind died out, or rose up. He waited for the day when the territorial wars would end. When thousands of newborns descended on the human population, Jasper joined in, thrilled at the prospect of no longer having to hide. No more restraint. They tore through towns and cities with no obstacles, at first. It took some time for the humans to organize a defense, and even longer for them to find an effective one. Their numbers grew exponentially, something that should have bothered him had Jasper not been affected by the euphoria of freedom. There was news of other groups emerging across the sea, unstoppable. Unstoppable until the fire bombs, that is.

They weren’t exactly fire bombs, but none of them had a better word for them. They came from across the sea, dropped by planes that weren’t high enough to escape the blast. The bombs burned up anything nearby, human and vampire alike. They caused indescribable suffering to those that survived. They dropped slowly, though, and word spread much faster. It became second nature to run from the planes that chased them and watch as they killed their own. Some cities set themselves on fire to avoid them, and even more so were found dead in their homes, too cowardly to face the future head-on.

Jasper led many North, unbothered when others took the lead. He envisioned a future without boundaries, a life so full of blood that it would drown out the fear of the dying. His friends around him died quickly, and were replaced twice as fast by twice as many. Eventually, Jasper found himself alone, watching the carnage from afar. Suddenly free from the emotional manipulation of the crowds, he saw what he hadn’t before. An imbalance of power, an insurmountable loss of life, and the death of a world he had once known. The future was speeding towards him, and he had allowed it to run off track. Territories would now span thousands of miles instead of a few. A single human would be worth the decimation of hundreds of lives. The immortal children, with their numbers reaching the thousands, would follow no orders and heed no warnings. Alone, in the ruins of a once lively city, Jasper came to a realization-

The future could be much, much worse.


	2. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without the mindset of the many clouding his motivation, Jasper finally began to work.

Without the mindset of the many clouding his motivation, Jasper finally began to work. If the future he wanted wasn’t coming to him, then he would be damned to wait any longer. He was going to do what knew he wanted, finally, and carve out a comfortable world for himself. His reputation for violence quickly became known, as well as his insistence on isolation. His territory was seldom invaded, the punishment for such a crime coming swiftly and without mercy. Jasper became known as old- even wise. Someone from _before_. Someone who fought _during_. Someone to avoid.

As the others enslaved the remaining humans, or offered small communities protection in exchange for sacrifices, Jasper was content with simply feeding on the few who wandered into his expansive territory, As there were less and less humans to turn, the vampires too became to dwindle. For hundreds of years, the world became stagnant. The humans survived in small numbers, scattered around the globe in various levels of comfort. Jasper found himself yearning for _before_ , despite his resolution to move forward. He collected his past, dragging huge containers full of what humanity left behind and keeping it all stored safely in his home. His territory became filled with their animals, now safe from the starving. They were his Plan B, really. Food for a future he knew would soon come and, when weeks passed without a lost human entering his territory, a supplemental meal. 

Jasper counted five-thousand, four-hundred and thirty-two days since a vampire had last trespassed, nearly fifteen years and counting. This only made it all the more unusual when he heard a group only a few hundred feet away from his southern border. They were fearful as he approached, but made no move to leave. There were three of them, one Jasper knew as someone who should know better, one on the cusp of being an immortal child, and a third that lingered behind them. The oldest one had her arms around the youngest, forcing him still despite his squirming. The closer Jasper came, the quieter the youngest one became until there was nothing but silence between them. Despite this, Jasper’s message was clear. _Leave._ It didn’t matter their reason. It didn’t matter if this was a mistake or intentional. Jasper wasn’t willing to let his home slip away because of an invasion. Still, the three remained, unmoving in front of him. 

“The fairy ran that way!” The boy shouted so quickly that it came out as one word. He was immediately forced to his knees by the woman, her hands pushing him harshly into the dirt. Jasper shook his head. It wasn’t the first time he had heard such stories from those born into the chaos. They didn’t read, never knew what life was like before, and lacked the ability to tell truth from fiction. Myths had become reality, and reality was something in between rumor and history. Fairies were most often immortal children with gifts, too fast to be seen by even the most trained eye or too quiet to be heard by anyone one of their kind. Some flew, though others were simply described as blurry children with big eyes and a keen ability for escaping capture. Jasper had killed enough of these “fairies” to know that they were simply the powerful turned too young. 

“Shut up!” The woman chastised the boy, still avoiding eye contact with Jasper. She didn’t correct him, Jasper noted, only enforced a code of conduct that Jasper himself had put into place. He was someone worthy of respect, someone that didn’t need an explanation to punish wrongdoings. Someone who would fight for his life. “Forgive us. We were hunting a human, but it entered your territory.” 

“It’s not a human! It’s a-” The boy began again, voice shrill. He was interrupted by the third, much quieter vampire pulling him upright and dragging him back into the adjacent woods by his shirt collar. The boy didn’t fight, clearly a second class citizen within the group, unable to assert himself without being beaten down. The power dynamic was familiar. In the world beyond his boundaries, the biggest and most powerful vampires ruled. The humans with the most firepower kept the biggest communities safe. A false stability to an otherwise chaotic existence. 

“It will be dealt with. Leave.” Jasper spoke with finality, projecting fear until the trio scattered. Once it was clear that the group had gone, Jasper shifted slightly, turning to examine the ground around himself. If there had been a human here, it was filthy enough to keep its scent from trailing behind itself. There were no footprints in the ground, no indents to suggest heavy weight. And yet, the trio had no reason to lie about such a specific scenario. Jasper made his way back to his home, slowly, checking the ground for tracks as he went. Still, nothing. No one had been in the barn, not a single soul besides him had touched the horses. It was just another story, he decided, humming in tempo with the heartbeats of the cows. Then, he stopped. Quietly, somewhere far off, a heartbeat too fast. 

His front door was wide open, as if whoever had made his way into his home wanted to show him that they had been there. That they were still there. Jasper could hear movement in his kitchen, plates, and cups clinking together loudly. The shattering of glass. Light, carefree footprints dirtied his wood floors all the way down the hall. It _was_ a human, and a particularly careless one at that. There was no fear emanating from the kitchen, rather- comfort? What human would find comfort in the home of an undead? 

Jasper suddenly found himself anxious. A lack of fear meant confidence in your safety, and humans only felt that in their guarded communities, when the surrounding grounds were clear. Or when they had weapons. When they were sure they would win. He pushed the feeling down and stepped inside, shutting the door behind himself with an audible _bang!_ The human in his kitchen didn’t even jump, just shifted from foot to foot before coming around the corner.

The first thing Jasper noticed about her was her size. She was miniscule. Tiny. Shorter than the boy who had claimed she was a fairy. He understood his confusion now- Her short hair and tattered dress certainly gave her the appearance of a changeling. Even her eyes, which were accented by the dirt that adorned her face, seemed to look too intensely at him, as if she was looking into him. 

The next thing he noticed was her joy, which overwhelmed him to such a degree that he would have offered his throat for her to slice. 

“I like your house,” she began, and of course her voice was melodic. She sang her words so genuinely that Jasper just nodded, staring right back at her. “Can I have the room upstairs?”


	3. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The oak table in the dining room had never seen so much, Jasper mused from his spot in the kitchen

The oak table in the dining room had never seen so much, Jasper mused from his spot in the kitchen. Across the room, the girl sat at the head of the table, legs dangling down and kicking forward and back against the legs of the chair. She doesn’t sit still for even a moment, body in constant motion as she rummaged through Jasper’s collection, pulling out item after item until she had a shiny spoon and a matching bowl, ignoring Jasper’s obvious confusion. She even went so far as to pull out a can of food from the hoard, and then another, with labels that he vaguely recognized as _Honey _and _Rice _. It takes him a long time to understand what her outstretched arms had meant, and he was surprised to watch her clear off the table and sit down in the sturdiest chair while he pried the tops off the cans, setting them down in front of her.____

____Looking back on it, Jasper would blame his self-imposed isolation for the way he was caught off guard, the way that Alice had him wrapped around her little finger from the first moment. Overwhelmed with emotion, he can do nothing but watch as she takes the cans from him before dumping the contents into her bowl before going back to sit at the other end of the table. It’s not a meal that Jasper can ever recall himself eating as a human. Rice and Honey? The girl’s teeth grind up the dry rice loudly, and the thick honey sticks to her face. Jasper just watches from afar, waiting for her next move. Her next decision. An explanation. Anything, really. It’s only when she had scraped all of the honey out of the bowl that she spoke again._ _ _ _

____“Should I- Oh. The sink is full,” her voice cut through the silence as if it was never there. Jasper glanced over to the sink, which was indeed full of plates, cups, and other kitchen-related objects he’d found during his time in the ruins. It wasn’t something that ever bothered him- The clutter, that is. It wasn’t like he had any running water, or needed it at all. None of his plates needed cleaning, and he realized too late that the bowl his intruder had eaten from was filthy. A phrase popped into his mind, one he is sure he had never heard as an immortal. Someone said it from the distance, a voice that is eerily familiar but one that he can’t place._ _ _ _

_____Southern hospitality, Jasper._ The voice chastised, leaving him with an odd sensation of shame. Something wasn’t right here, but before he could figure it out, the intruder had already put her spoon into the sticky bowl and placed them both on the counter beside him, stacked precariously on top of a pile of mugs in various states of breakage. The movement caused one to shatter, ceramic shards cracking under the weight before they collapsed entirely with a loud crack, but the girl still didn’t flinch. _ _ _ _

____“Oops! Sorry! It’s okay, you don’t need that one anyway,” She spoke like she was pulling the words right out of his head, thoughts that he barely had time to even acknowledge before she stole them away. Jasper opened his mouth, with all intentions of demanding answers, insisting that she leave, and intimidating her into compliance, but she was too fast for him again. “I guess you didn’t have time to clean up before I got here. Where’s the staircase? I’m Alice, by the way.”_ _ _ _

____Jasper wanted to point out that he hadn’t known she would be here, but Alice didn’t give him time to answer before she was halfway up the stairs. What else can he do but follow her? He caught up with her in a matter of seconds with a plan of blocking her path at the top of the stairs. Then, of course, he would begin the interrogation. Where is she from? How did she find his home? Why hasn’t he killed her yet? Alice just ducked under his arm, though, as if it’s choreography they’d practiced a hundred times before, and opened the third door on the right. She was exceedingly graceful with her actions, practically spinning into the room and skipping to the dust-caked window. Jasper now understood what the boy had meant when he called her a Fairy. With smooth, fluid movements, she presented herself as otherworldly, with rounded edges while the rest of them had points._ _ _ _

____“It’s amazing! Look, I can see the barn! Oh, kind of dirty, but I don’t mind. We’ll clean it up in no time. Hey, do you have any water? It hardly ever rains around here.”_ _ _ _

____Finally, _finally_ , Jasper is given time to answer. Alice is relatively still in the bedroom, clearly offering him time to formulate a response, and he almost felt grateful, as if she was giving him something she doesn’t give to others. There was also a sense of urgency that shines through, no- A sense of importance. There was a lot riding on his answer, and she watched him intensely as he blinked. Water? Was she asking about water? The same voice from just a moment ago invaded his head again, and he nodded dumbly._ _ _ _

____“Water. Sure.” Jasper managed, looking around himself for a cup. Clearly, this was the right answer, because Alice’s face brightened so much that Jasper found himself stuck again, unable to do anything but gaze right back. Alice bent down and picked up a cup without looking away before shoving it into his grasp. Jasper gripped the cup on instinct, still watching as Alice twirled around to face the window again._ _ _ _

____“I’ll stay right here,” She promised, and in any other situation Jasper would have laughed. To assume that he wanted her to stay, and that staying or leaving was her own choice, was ridiculous. Yet, he didn’t laugh. He just nodded again, turning around and leaving Alice in the bedroom, listening as she rummaged around for the curtains that she seemed to know were there somewhere._ _ _ _

____Jasper’s walk to the river was a fast one, practiced so many times over so many years that the ground beneath his shoes lacked the weeds that invaded his territory everywhere else. It’s a path he’s unused to taking at this time of day, when the sun is so low and the flies around him buzz so loudly. The sound bothered him enough to keep him away from the slow-moving water during the evenings, but Jasper was pleased to find that flies kept their distance, leaving him with a foot of empty air around him at all times. The sound was still almost deafening, but there’s no way for him to get lost on the unintentionally made path._ _ _ _

____Jasper reached the river unusually fast, kneeling down but keeping his pants out of the dirt and dipping the grimy cup into the clear water. It feels wrong to bring back water in such a soiled cup, so he sweeps his fingers over the submerged glass delicately, happy to see the dirt disintegrate and be carried away by the water. The low sunlight catches his eye, reflecting against his skin and causing tiny glimmers to appear in the water before him. An odd thought comes to him before he can stop it- _Alice will never glow like this._ It’s a dumb thought, one that he dismisses almost immediately before it creeps back into his mind with steady force. _ _ _ _

____Alice will never glow like this because she is human. The thought shouldn’t be so jarring, it still hits him like a ton of bricks. Alice is human, nothing more than a meal, and yet somehow she had tricked him into letting her steal his food (not that he needed it), and forcing him to bring her water (not that he had anywhere else to be). She had a distinct human scent, as covered by the dirt as it was, and her heartbeat was impossible to miss. She wasn’t any faster than he was, but her reflexes were somehow ahead of his own. Alice had definitely put him under some sort of spell. A fairy, indeed._ _ _ _

____Jasper resolved to remove her from his home by whatever means necessary, but still found himself carrying a cup of water as he made his way back. The decision confused him to the point of distress, so he ignored it. Surely the little creature would know if he didn’t have the water and be better prepared to attack him in response. Yes, the water would serve as a way to disguise his actions from the powers that she seemed to have._ _ _ _

____It was when Jasper found himself exactly thirty steps from his own back door that the same warm, fuzzy feeling began seeping into his bones, loosening his joints and brightening up the world around him. A step back and it dissipated. Having spent so long alone, with only the breakthrough fear of dying every few weeks to affect him, Jasper almost didn’t realize that what he was feeling was, in fact, not some sort of cruel curse. It was Alice. And she was happy. Comfortable. Somehow at ease despite having shown herself into a Vampire’s house, and apparently staying put. Another few steps forward increased the sensation. Opening the back door, and then the screen door was like breaking a damn. His once stagnant house was not full of the twisting and morphing emotions of affection, companionship, and excitement. Buried deep within, but somehow also saturating every nook and cranny, was hope, glittering in front of him._ _ _ _

____It was a feeling he didn’t want to lose._ _ _ _


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice’s first few days in Jasper’s territory passed without incident, much to his surprise.

Alice’s first few days in Jasper’s territory passed without incident, much to his surprise. She kept her distance as he worked, remaining inside almost exclusively while Jasper stayed out, tending to the constant needs of his livestock. Horses, chickens, cows, and even sheep inhabited the large structure he called his barn. Not a single one of them tolerated him, and whatever physical care he provided was done through stressful means. There were days when sheep ran to their pens bruised after hours of coaxing and then a moment of anger. They still didn’t trust him, though anyone else would have slaughtered them for meat and blood on the spot. 

Occasionally, Jasper would glance up at the house and find Alice staring back at him through a window, always in a different room. Her wild hair and dark eyes were hard to miss, and once he caught her shivering as she stared. Right. Humans ran warm. Chopping wood was an activity that Jasper often disliked, but today it seemed to be a much more compelling task. There was a purpose to it, an important goal for him to reach. The wood stove in the room Alice had chosen would keep her warm as long as she tended to it regularly, and it would be her responsibility, of course. Keeping that room functional would be her responsibility too, Jasper decided, his arms full of perfectly split boards. Perhaps she would come outside one day and learn to tend to the animals. Surely they would take to her more than they did to him.

Stepping into his house was like stepping into a stranger’s home. The hallway, once littered with clutter that piled up against the walls, was now relatively clear, though evidence of the damage his hoard had made was visible in the warped wood floor. Even the wallpaper seemed to have molded to the clutter, sporting dark stains where items had pressed against it for so long. The only thing left in the front hallway was a carpet, one that Jasper only vaguely recognized, and a side table covered in shiny trinkets. Where the clutter had gone, Jasper didn’t know, but the change was enough to stop him in his tracks for a moment, and that was all that Alice needed.

“Do you love it?” Alice skipped down the staircase, cheeks slightly rosier than they had been when she first arrived. “I didn’t really know where to put the old stuff, so I just threw it all on the table. It’s hard work.” She glanced at the wood in his arms, but didn’t mention it.

“Follow me,” Jasper instructed, slightly bewildered by the sudden change. He stepped past her quickly and made his way up the stairs with Alice following close behind. The second floor was still as cluttered as it had always been, much to Jasper’s relief. The only real change was that a small corner in Alice’s room had been cleared out and subsequently covered with blankets, clothes, and even a tattered set of curtains. “Come here and listen. I’ll only tell you once.” Jasper used his foot to clear the area around the woodstove before crouching down. 

Alice crouched down next to him, face as serious as she could manage. 

“It will get colder before summer. You’ll freeze without the wood stove, but I can’t stay inside all day to keep re-lighting it.” Alice nodded, watching in awe as Jasper broke two thin pieces of wood off of a larger chunk and, with a quick flick of his wrists, rubbed the wood together fast enough for a thin stream of smoke to begin streaming from between his hands. “Find some paper and-”

“Got it,” Alice interrupted, shoving fistfuls of torn paper into the small stove excitedly. He didn’t even have to tell her when to stop, since her hands were already reaching for the wood slabs while he tended to the embers in the stove. They worked well together, starting a fire without any other words. Alice still spoke, whispering encouragements as if the fire would respond. She filled the comfortable silence with her encouragement, and Jasper stood up when they were done, feeling oddly compelled to continue making the room more appropriate for the human. 

“Just- Make sure it doesn’t go out. I’ll be right back,” Jasper said, his voice a little less firm than it once had been. Alice nodded absentmindedly, still entranced by the fire, her head on her knees. He rummaged through the piles just outside of the door, finally pulling out a large tin bucket. It took him less than a minute to make his way to the river and back, this time with a basin full of water. He grabs what he recognizes as his cleaner rag and an old tin labeled _Ivory Soap_ , before making his way back upstairs, the basin under one arm and the soap and rag in the other. Alice is just where he left her, still watching the fire grow in the stove, the room already warmer than it had once been. Again, her eyes glance at him for only a moment, as if what she’s seeing has been seen before. She’s only looking because she wants to, not because it’s needed. 

Jasper set the basin on top of the stove, testing the temperature of the metal with his finger. Hot enough to keep her from freezing through the night. Hot enough to warm a few gallons of water. Somehow, _again_ , Alice knows too much, and Jasper sees too much when he turns around. She hasn’t waited for him to leave the room, hasn’t even waited for him to speak, already undressing as if he isn’t there. Or he is, and she doesn’t mind. 

The first thing Jasper noticed about Alice was her size. She was painfully thin, ribs painfully visible under her dark skin. Her legs didn’t seem to be big enough to support her entire body, and he was once again shocked that she had survived two nights in the cold. Then, his eyes cataloged every visible scar. Some were old, so old that all that was left was a silvery tinge to her skin. The newer ones, still scabbed over, told stories of branches whipping against her as she ran, fast fingers trying to grab at an even faster fairy, and the regular injuries that came with living outside. 

Then, of course, Jasper realized she was naked, her tattered dress already mixed in with the rest of the junk. 

“I’ll find you something to wear,” he murmured so quickly that he couldn’t be sure if he even said it out loud. It takes him no time at all to find something suitable- a dress that would fit her like a shirt, and a pair of pants with a drawstring. Shoes and socks are a harder find, but the idea of Alice cutting her feet on the unforgiving ground is too much to bear. He folded the dress-shirt and pants carefully, checking for any holes before stacking the shoes on top and then tucking the socks in them. “There are clothes here for you,” Jasper knocked on her lightly, careful not to splinter the delicate wood. “I’ll be outside.” 

Alice opens the door immediately, and Jasper is instantly aware of the difference. The smell hits him first. It’s the smell of blood, the smell of a meal that he hasn’t had in weeks, no longer masked by the dirt and grime he’s become so accustomed to seeing caked on. Speaking of dirt, her face is now clean, and she’s at least three shades lighter than she had been before. The tan that wasn’t a tan has disappeared, leaving her pale with red cheeks from scrubbing too hard. She looked less like an intruder and more like she belonged. At least, that’s what Jasper told himself after running from the sweet smell of her blood.

Alice finds him in the barn much later that night, once his eyes bright red and her is scent easier for him to manage. She runs from the barn to her room, keeping the stove well stocked and watching Jasper trim the horse’s hooves until she doesn’t come back out, curled up in her corner. Jasper watches the fire for her until she wakes, and saves the fire-safety lecture for the next day.


	5. Appeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It only takes a few more days for the two of them to fall into a comfortable rhythm.

It only takes a few more days for the two of them to fall into a comfortable rhythm. By the end of the week, Jasper found himself spending more time inside the house than he ever had before, and Alice didn’t seem to mind spending her days outside with the animals. She’s a quick learner, needing his instruction only once, and sometimes even less than that. By the second week, the sheep are happier and the chickens have taken to following Alice around, though they still kept their distance from the front door. Jasper spent his influx of free time making improvements to the house, finally patching up holes and taking inventory of what he had. Alice’s room changed the most, going from a storage room to a real bedroom. Where there once was a pile of blankets, there is now a thin mattress on a metal frame and enough space around the wood stove to give him enough peace of mind for Alice to sleep alone. Though, she never does. 

During that time, Jasper became more acquainted with Alice’s mind. There was so much that she knew, so much she didn’t need to know even more. There were moments in time when she paused, eyes glazing over for a matter of seconds before she continued on with her work. She was gifted, perhaps cast out of her own community because of centuries-old superstition. Maybe she had been a nomad, her parents killed for food, forcing her to become unnaturally attune to the world around her. 

Jasper became even more acquainted with what humans needed, and it was a lot. Water every day, always boiled, more than she could carry with her thin arms, though they seemed to get stronger every day. She ate a lot. A surprising amount. She went through his stash of cans every morning, picking and choosing for the day. There were some that she wouldn’t even look at, tossing them into the backyard, and doing the same when Jasper tried to bring them back into the kitchen. Others, however, she ate on a daily basis, like the rice, honey on stale crackers, and cans of thickened soup. When Jasper taught her how to milk the cows, Alice began to drink warm milk every day, and her hair grew an inch or so longer, and her clothes fit her a little bit better. 

Sleeping was a weird one, an activity that she did every night in the warmth of her room, always under Jasper’s watchful eye. He tended to the fire as she slept soundly, leaving the room for only a few minutes at a time. When she awoke, the water would already be boiled for her in the morning, and he would greet her with a list of chores that would never be done by sundown. 

“We can’t mend the fence today,” Alice yawned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Japer glanced over at her while testing the temperature of the boiled water. He dunked a cup in the water basin and handed it to her already outstretched arm. 

“How come? Rain?” 

“Someone’s coming today,” She answered, now on the bed with an empty cup and brighter eyes. Jasper froze. Another nomad? A stray for him to feed and bathe and put to work? Or something more sinister? “He’s almost here.”

The surge of jealousy that overtook Jasper was unexpected and overwhelming. He? What kind of man would be stupid enough to come within a hundred-mile radius of his territory? Even Alice, with her intoxicating moods, had come so close to being killed. There wasn’t room for another. Not for a _man_. Alice just gave him a funny look before stopping, her eyes glazing over again into what was now a familiar expression. 

“Jazz, he’s here!” Alice cried out, face contorting into something terrible. And she was right. Towards the north, the tell tale sounds of branches breaking and too fast feet making their way through the forest. Someone was darting through the forest, coming closer and closer and focused so intently on Alice. A tracker. Someone intent on not only invading his home but taking what was his in the most violent way. They weren’t opportunistic feeders, like he made himself out to be. They set their sights on entire communities, uncaring if it would leave them all starving one day.

The time went by so fast that day. Jasper picked up Alice immediately, ignoring the way she yelped in surprise. He broke her door down and rushed to the barn, the girl over his shoulder, fists pounding against his back.

“Stop it! Stop it! Let me go- He’s going to kill you!” Alice screeched, trying to wiggle her way out of his grasp. The horses kicked the walls of their pen when Jasper burst through the doors, unused to his presence after so long with Alice instead. Alice had gone still, giving up her fight for the moment while Jasper tossed her into a pile of hay.

“Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t make a sound, do you understand?” Jasper commanded, his feet digging into the soft ground. Alice just glared at him, not moving to brush the dirt off of her pants. She was at least quick enough to know how to cover her own scent, but there were so many words unspoken. I’m just as fast as you. My reflexes are just as good. I can hide, and I know how to hide. Jasper didn’t want to hear any of it. How she had survived so long on her own, he only vaguely understood, but there was no reason to take chances with a tracker.

Jasper was keenly aware of the tracker’s first step into his territory, the emotion in the air shifting. It was a man he recognized, someone who had spent his early years in the way he did, looking and killing and tearing down the institutions that kept them so thirsty. He hadn’t done it for freedom, though. Nothing James ever did as for the greater good- No, he liked the suffering that came from death, something Jasper would never understand.

“Whitlock,” James greeted, eyes narrowed. He was looking for her, the little human with a legend to her name. At that moment, Jasper understood. To kill someone like Alice- an exceptional human- would be the greatest accomplishment. The most rewarding hunt, with an even more rewarding prize. One that James would never earn. 

“I don’t like visitors,” Jasper growled, practically daring James to take another step forward. It would be a fair fight, one that Jasper wasn’t sure of the outcome, but he sure that at a certain point, the danger would pass. Alice could take care of herself, as long as she had a big enough head start. At that moment, Jasper could hear the latch of the pig pen open, and then close. It was a noise that nearly blended in with all of the others, one that he was certain James couldn’t tell apart from the stamping of hooves, the buzzing of flies in the air, and the horses, perturbed with the apparent upcoming changes. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. “You need to leave.”

James sneered, then went silent, suddenly overcome with the amount of fear that Jasper was sending his way. He knew about the gift already, but it was still enough to cloud his sense. “Right. Your little party trick.” James began, clearly distracted enough to begin his dramatics, but not comfortable enough to give Jasper any opportunity to strike. As long as James was facing him, it would stay civil. “I know you have her. What do they call her- a fairy?”

“She wandered into my territory. I’m not keen on sharing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Such a small thing, I hear, and not enough to share.” James teased, his pearly white teeth appearing as he smiled. It gets harder and harder and harder for Jasper to keep his eyes on James with all of the noise behind him. Alice was walking behind them, keeping to the inside of Jasper’s territory line but making her way closer. He was sure they had been on the same page, thinking similarly, but it was clear he was wrong. Alice wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t running away, but she wasn’t hiding either. 

Oh. James needed to look away. Of course. James needed to look away, and he would only look away for Alice. It took Japer too long to figure it out, and by the time he had come to terms with the amount of risk involved in this plan, Alice was already just behind James. The crack of her bare foot on a stick, and Jasper almost missed his opportunity to act, so worried about Alice being caught that he very nearly bolts to get in between the two of them. Luckily, Alice is just as fast as he is, and she’s up a tree before he can make a decision, so the decision is made for him.

James’s head is torn from his body while his back is turned and Jasper feels nothing but fear, the same fear that inspired James for so long. Jasper still doesn’t understand the appeal.


	6. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James didn’t scream, couldn’t, as he burned before them, the blackened smoke drifting up a clear sign to anyone following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn ahead!

Jasper picked out the crushed leaves and small sticks that littered Alice’s short hair as they sat in front of the fire. James didn’t scream, couldn’t, as he burned before them, the blackened smoke drifting up a clear sign to anyone following him. Alice had her knees drawn to her chest while she worked on removing invisible bits of dirt and bark that remained from her time spent up in a tree, so close to James. It had been so close.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Jasper murmured, running his fingers through her short curls. He brushed the debris off of her shirt, the shirt that was really a dress, one that he had pulled off a little girl after he found her wandering alone in the snow. The girl had been to him what Alice had been to James. Not a person. A thing, a meal, something to acquire and forget about a day later, not a person, a human with enough strength in her little heart to keep up with a vampire, and enough bravely to sleep with him in the room. To use herself as a distraction, and trust that he would be ready to strike.

“I knew you would figure it out,” Alice hummed, a strange type of energy coming off of her. It wasn’t an abnormal emotion, but certainly not one that Jasper expected her to feel just then. She shouldn't have been so carefree in that moment, but she was, body thrumming with anticipation for something only she could see.

“I hesitated,” Jasper shot back, quickly tying up a loose thread on her shirt before he began to search for more. “You couldn’t have known how I would react.”

“Don’t be silly,” Alice sang, turning around and wrapping her arms around Jasper’s neck. She grinned at him with the same knowing smile that painted her face every morning, the same twinkling eyes that weren’t looking past him anymore. He should have pushed her away. He should have insisted that she go inside and bathe again, or mend the fence, or do anything else. “You were always going to do the right thing.”

There was no wrong move anymore, no reason to send Alice away. Alice pressed her forehead against Jasper and the battle was won. He let himself fall backward, slowly, and pulled Alice down with him. She giggled against his lips, every bump of their foreheads sending shocks of light dancing across his skin. It’s overwhelming, feeling something so intense after so long alone. He wondered if he was being gentle enough- Not that Alice was fragile. Not that she seemed to want it gentle. She pressed her body against his as they rolled through the grass, _hard_. She wanted this.

Alice made it very clear what she wanted, projecting lust as forcefully as she could, and Jasper didn’t see any reason to deny her. If she’s as intuitive with sex as she is battle, then he’ll follow her lead. There were no real kisses, and Jasper knew why. Alice kept a respectful distance from his mouth, because even with the smell of the mud and the farm, her blood still thrums loudly beneath her skin. Instead, she let herself slide down his body until her head was against his chest, their hips flush with one another. 

Alice let out a breathy whine at the first roll of his hips, and Jasper decided then and there that there wasn’t a noise he wanted to hear more, that his goal in life had shifted. It didn’t matter what the past had been, and what had been left behind, Alice was here, in his arms, willing and open beneath him. More than willing, squirming in pleasure. Jasper ran his hands down Alice’s back, settling them on her hip bones and slotting her warmth against his thigh. She gasped, eyes flying open and meeting Jasper’s red ones. 

“You’ve never-” Jasper began, already expecting Alice to interrupt him, though her interruption was slightly delayed. 

“I’ve sort of- ah- been busy. You know, finding you,” Alice stuttered, riding his thigh. Every brush of her dampening core against his leg sent a shock of arousal up his spine, and Alice kept making delicious little noises against his chest, clinging to him desperately. He dug his feet into the dirt in an attempt to keep himself bucking up against her so hard as to shatter her delicate bone, but Alice didn’t mirror his restraint. One of her hands snuck down, trying in vain to get past her waistband. Jasper doesn’t let her, catching her hand and replacing it with his own. Her core is warm, no- _burning_. She’s soaked already, like she’s been wet for a while, like she’s known that this would happen. Of course she knew. 

Jasper found her swollen clit immediately. He rubbed against it lightly and watched in awe as Alice responded so sweetly, her hips bucking against his cold fingers. 

“That’s it, Darlin’,” Jasper encouraged, slipping his finder lower, against her slit, and- God, she was tight. Too tight for anything more than a finger, with his palm pressed roughly against her clit, and as much pleasure as Jasper could, manage washing over her in waves. “You’re so pretty, there you go. You’re doing so well.” 

Alice’s orgasm hit her, pulse after pulse as she rode Jasper’s hand. Each clench of her muscles was another wave of pleasure up Jasper’s arm and back down his spine, an odd sort of second-hand orgasm that was just as strong, if not stronger, than any he had ever experienced alone, or even with a partner, if they could even be called that. No other person had pushed back their pleasure so intently, nobody so willing to give back when they deserved to take so much. 

Alice slept with him that night, curled up against him despite all of the heat he absorbed. The little bed hardly fit the both of them, and Jasper was more than happy to listen to her plans for its expansion despite how often he insisted he was comfortable. She seems more at ease now, or he’s more open to listening, or perhaps it’s been this way the entire time for her, and Jasper has just caught up to Alice’s reality, the one she’s been living in her entire life.   
Regardless, he’s glad to have become the person she’s so willing to know.


	7. Terrible

The state of the house started to eat away at him, slowly. The kitchen was being used every day, three times a day, and he felt the need to keep it clean for the only person really using it. There was just as much that needed to be done to keep the house standing as the farm, now, and the life that filled every nook and cranny of the structure should have been a welcome change. Everything felt perfect. 

They spent their nights together in bed, wrapped around one another as close as Jasper’s thirst would allow. They managed well enough with Jasper’s fingers, or his thigh slotted between her legs, letting the lust wash over the both of them. Alice was able to do more, just as enthusiastic with her actions as he was with his emotions. Her teeth weren’t so sharp, her body unable to cause him any harm, and Damn if she wasn’t creative. 

The work on the farm was harder. It took longer every day, keeping them up all day, as Alice would need fresh food later on in the year when the supply of non-expired canned food ran out. They did the work together, though, Jasper working in the fields at night and in the home during the day while Alice slept and night and worked with the animals during the day, only coming inside to eat and bathe and direct Jasper in his interior decorating. 

It was a platonic bliss marred by distrust, all because Alice wouldn’t tell him more. She knew more, but whatever future she saw ahead of them she kept to herself. 

Jasper knew what it meant. None of this was long term. Something would happen, something she was unwilling to tell him, something she didn’t trust him with or didn’t think he could handle hearing. The realization somehow soured the air between them, and Alice seemed to realize what had happened. She started giving him more distance during the day and speaking less at night. The house because quieter, less habitable, the air tense and their conversations laced with stress, all of it culminating in one terrible evening 

“Leave!” Jasper shouted, standing up so suddenly that the legs of his chair splintered against the ground. He felt anger. Honest-to-God hatred. It was so overwhelming after weeks of bliss that it spilled out of him in shock waves. Alice jerked in her chair, eyes wide and arms scrambling to push herself away from the table and stand up. He had never seen her surprised before, and it really seemed to frighten her. Good. She had overstayed her visit anyway, eating into his supplies and changing the future that he had worked so hard to create for himself. She didn’t matter in the long run. She was a blip in his life, and would die before she left even a dent in his soul. “You don’t belong here!”

Alice, to her credit, finally listened. She ran to the back door and fumbled with the knob before opening it, hands trembling. If she was feeling anything but fear, it couldn’t penetrate the thick haze of intimidation that Jasper exuded. In the doorway, at the boundary between Jasper’s home and the outside, Alice stopped. She looked back at him, frowning. Her eyes darted back and forth, and Jasper noticed the dark bags that adorned them for the first time. It would be stupid to let her stay, a terrible idea keep a human around a vampire. There was so much that he had been neglecting. So much that Alice had let him neglect. 

“ _Leave!_ ” Jasper thundered, slamming his fist against the oak table. It broke like foam beneath his hand, showering the floor with wooden splinters. Alice ran. He was expecting a fight, expecting some resistance to push against, but Alice just ran. Without resistance, his anger dissipated. The fight drained from his body, and the winner was clear. Alice had won by default, rigging the game in her favor. Jasper relied on his emotions to lead him through battle, intimidating his enemy and using their arrogance against them. But without anyone to influence, he was left stewing in his own emotions, forced into submission by hatred that had no one else to latch onto.

The stove went first. The useless damn stove that Alice hated so much. The one he had promised to replace but never did. The metal frame is like butter beneath his fingers. Next, the floorboards come out one by one, until there’s nothing left of the hallway floor but wood shards. Everything comes off the walls, even the wallpaper is torn off in long shreds. By the time the air clears, the bottom floor is in ruins, and Jasper has collapsed helplessly on his knees, prostrating himself for whatever God that isn’t watching.

He knew where Alice had gone, the only place within a hundred miles that would guarantee her survival. The commune just outside of the territory, the one where old men and women wandered from in their hours, would take her in with open arms. She would be dressed in a black dress, her short hair covered by a dark shawl, and would only return to him as a meal, too weak and sickly to fight him off. But in the meantime, she would be happy. She would be with her own kind, or the kind most like herself, and she would live a life that those around her fought so hard to live. One that Jasper could never provide. 

The horses won’t eat for him anymore. The pigs refuse his touch, and the sheep back themselves so far into a corner that the walls of the barn threaten to slant. Jasper instead busied himself with the house. He pulled the broken floorboards outside, along with the two halves of his table and the crumpled wood stove, creating a pile in the middle of the back yard. Alice’s scent still lingered in the air, her small footprints still visible in the dirt. Her scent would dissipate soon enough, and the coming rain would wash away the rest of her. 

Later that night, when the air whistled harshly through the trees, Jasper listened in bed to the sound of the screen door opening slowly and then squeaking shut. Bare feet balanced on what remained of the floorboards, hopping from piece to piece all the way to the base of the stairs, and then skipped up. Alice climbed into bed silently, curling up under the comforter with him and resting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t seem to mind that he was as cold as she was, snuggling closer when he tried to shift away. Finally, he relented.

Jasper pulled Alice close and, for the first time in centuries, cried.


	8. Sing

It happened so slowly that Jasper didn’t notice, at first. He didn’t make a point of focusing on Alice’s heartbeat, more interested instead in her emotions, the way she was finally filling out her clothes instead of the cloth overtaking her, how she gravitated towards the planning aspect of projects, coordinating even the tiniest tasks to be done and directing Jasper with confidence. He focused on her emotions when she ate, her emotions when at the end of the day, and when he presented her with gifts. Jasper made sure to give Alice all of his attention in bed until the moment her eyes closed, and then some. 

They learned more than a lot about each other. Alice’s full name was Mary-Alice Brandon, a tough and fitting string of letters immortalized in a delicate metal necklace that Jasper had crafted for her, gifting it to her on the night when the moon stayed out the longest. She had grown up in a commune much like the one that sat several miles away from Jasper’s home, just as strict and just as prosperous for many years. Alice had learned to read and write, she even knew a good bit of history until a nomad had taken an interest in the community and torn it all to shreds. It was Alice’s gift that allowed her to survive, giving her sight that would warn her of an impending attack hours before it would happen, and though she was not unloved, there weren’t many in the community that were willing to risk their own life to search for her. 

Her faith, though, was so strongly instilled from a young age that the young Mary-Alice had been convinced that there was a greater power at play, perhaps her own, and that Jasper was waiting for her up North in the future. She wouldn’t tell him much more of what was to come, insisting that she hadn’t been able to see beyond this, that finding him was far too important to focus on anything else. There were, of course, small efforts to ensure her own survival- Joining nomads, living on her own, learning to hunt and weaponize her gift and becoming lethal in pursuit of her own heaven. 

Jasper’s own story felt slightly less impressive. Caught up in the chaos and excitement of the sudden and overwhelming newborn rebellion, he had followed, then briefly led them through destruction. It was only when he was able to step back did he realize that the life he wanted so badly wasn’t the one his kind was fighting for. So, he decided to splinter off from the others, to build the life he needed, finally, and stop living for others.

This, of course, failed to satisfy Alice. She probed deeper, asked more questions. Where was he from, before? How did he end up in the South? What was it like? Who turned him? Why didn’t the humans fight back? Why didn’t he fight back with them? 

Jasper grinned at her one night from his spot next to the wood stove, listening to her recite her book from memory, 

“ _‘Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.’_ ” She sang, though the message behind her words was clear. “Matthew 7:13-14”

“Are you a preacher, Mary-Alice?” Jasper chuckled, shoving another cut of wood into the stove before closing the glass door. “How about this one: _‘Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.’_ ”

“That’s Romans!” Alice narrows her eyes, giving him a funny look, “What are you trying to say?”

“Well,” Jasper steps over her small body, letting her have the side of the bed that’s closest to the heat emanating from the stove. “You were born in an era when the undead rule. That would make you the rebellious one.”

“And you, too!” She points out, laughing right back at him.

“And me, too.” He agrees, pulling her close. It’s that night that he noticed, right then, that her heart doesn’t speed up much when their skin touches. It’s unusual, but nothing that’s- well, terrible, or scares him. There’s no emotion that accompanies the change, or lack of change, to signal any danger. Humans are weird. Bodies are weird. So, Jasper doesn’t really notice. 

Alice slows down, spending more time resting and less time in the barn, but it makes sense considering the freezing temperatures. Farm life is difficult, especially for a human. Alice has been dealing with malnutrition for her entire life. It makes sense that she would take advantage of her opportunity to finally be able to rest. 

But maybe not in the middle of the pasture. And not in the middle of the snow. And not for so long that her face goes pale and grey against the ground, and her limp body feels cold against Jasper’s skin, even by the fire. Her heart only stops for a moment, but her breathing stops for so much longer, and there’s just too little for him to do. Jasper curses himself for learning so little about humans in his long time of isolation. The opportunity was there, of course, and he certainly had enough books that could cure Alice now, but there was just no time.   
He rubs his knuckles against her brittle chest. He tries lifting her legs, then lifting her head, then smearing honey-water against her chapped lips. She wakes for a moment, her eyes lidded, so unfocused that Jasper isn’t sure if he wasn’t the one who collapsed in the pasture. 

“Breathe, Alice. Come on. Can you hear me? Can you say something, sweetheart?” Jasper begs, willing joy and energy and _life_ into Alice, trying desperately to push the boundaries of his gift for the first time in his life. She makes an odd, terrible gurgling noise, like she’s breathing in water and nothing more, so Jasper finds himself frantically picking her back up and leaning her over so that the spit can drip from her mouth. Finally, finally, Alice takes in a decent gulp of air, then another, and she manages to use the last of her strength to leave Jasper with one last set of instructions.

“Let me go when the birds sing.”

The next day, as the snow melts in the pasture, the nightingales welcome Spring to Jasper’s territory with their usual song, but the farm is empty.


End file.
